


Birthmark

by AlxAtz



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Hongjoong is part of Seonghwa, M/M, Self-Harm, Seonghwa is obsessed, Stalker, They are crazy as hell, Yeosang knows nothing about it, a lot of blood, dd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlxAtz/pseuds/AlxAtz
Summary: Yeosang wasn't expecting anything, not that he had to, but right now he feels like he should've, because he saw him entering the classroom, and everyone went silent, his heart dropped and he could swear it stopped beating. He would not have noticed, he would've thought it was just an injury, Seonghwa always got hurt, but the way he walked to him and caressed his cheek right on his mark shaked something, and he was about to take his hand off, but he leaned and kissed his birthmark, "Maybe next time.", he said before siting to the other side of the room, making him feel uneasy, not noticing even how he threw up next to his chair.----Seonghwa and Hongjoong are obsessed with Yeosang, it's so fucking twisted and gross.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Kudos: 32





	Birthmark

**Author's Note:**

> DO.NOT.READ if you are highly sensitive to blood or self-harm. This just tickled my brain so I wrote it. It's pure fiction, gore-ish content, probs shitty but it's there.

And there he was again. Walking and laughing with all his friends, his brown hair parted in the middle, black tight jeans and a tucked white shirt. 

Beautiful.

Always Beautiful.

And now he was laughing, his laughter filling the whole room, such a piercing sound, isn't it?

**_It is._ **

Wish he would shut up. 

Wish he could just stop for a fucking second. 

**_Grab him by the throat to make him stop._ **

It would crack. 

**_Would love to hear it crack._ **

He'd be so quite then. But he wouldn't be able to breath, would he? 

No, of course he wouldn't, but I could force him to see me and hear me still. 

And that's how Seonghwa's body started twitching, first his eye, it seemed like an innocent tic, and everybody has seen him with it so it's not weird anymore, well, not as it used to be. He is just the weird kid that would get a full body tic whenever he was "too stressed", except that it didn't stop there, since he would often open his eyes as wide as possible and then let out a laugh, a really weird one, more high-pitched than before the tic, his voice would also get higher and his movements more delicate. No one knew. No one could. No one asked. The only thing is that at first he would care to go to the bathroom or outside in order to not show or disturbe anyone, but now he would let all see it, just like it was happening at that moment. His eye, then his lip, then his hand dropped the spoon he was holding, letting it drop into the still full food trail infront of him, then his chest clenched letting out a small gasp, he was struggling to breath, but he smiled at the middle of it, going blank. 

Then color again. 

Oh, but how he missed being there. Watching everything from the side wasn't as fun as before. He breathed deeply, trying to look as normal as possible, but doing nothing to hide the smile from ear to ear that formed on his face when he saw him from the distance, so ethereal he was. Thick thighs, broad shoulders, slim waist, sharp jawline, and that birthmark at the side of his eye. It was obvious life made its differences between its favourite childs. But so did death, didn't it?

Yes, yes it did. 

The bell rang. Time to go back to class. He didn't touch his food at all. He loved to see it rot. They both did. 

The halls were crowded, but he didn't mind, he could always picture a good scenario in his head that would help him cope with his social anxiety. 

First he could grab the fire extinguisher, hit the boy that just passed by him hitting him on the shoulder with his backpack, leaving him unconscious on the ground, smashing his head with his foot now, then hitting anyone that tried to come near him. Yeah, that would make him crack a laugh, a good one. But he was smart enough to know that would be impossible, he wasn't that tall or that fast to run before they tried to catch him to fight back, so he just stayed with the fantasy on his mind. At least until he could turn it into reality. 

But he wouldn't do that.

**_You wouldn't do that._ **

That's the reason you stopped going out in public.

**_I needed to see him. Even more perfect than before._ **

It's the birthmark.

**_I'm going to rip it from his face._ **

He was looking at the floor, so he didn't see the body coming right next to him, it was only when he felt the pain and impact on his head and chest, hearing a round of "Sorry"s and "Are you okay?"s, and he realized he knew that voice like he knew himself, so he looked up with a smile from ear to ear, admiring him. Wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel him. Wanted to know just so he could have a better sense of what it would be, to have a better description on his mind for when- 

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" Yeosang asked, ignoring the smile, ignoring the weird manners. They all knew he was like that, but he had never done anything to anyone, so there was nothing to fear. Just another freak. 

He shaked his head and changed his facial expression to a kind smile, blinking a couple of times, placing his hand on the other's cheek, resisting the urge to just tear him apart right then and there. "Yeah, don't worry about it." And then he lifted his hand just a bit more, and there it was, the mark. So close to his eye, so bright, making his breath go away, making it difficult for him. 

His eye twitched. 

He let go of him and started running to the nearest empty room, finding the janitor's closet, going in there before falling to the ground, whole body shaking. 

"I was about to do it." He sobbed while stroking his hair with his hands, pain coming from how hard he was doing it. 

You had no right to do it.

"I did! I do have a right!" Nails scratching his arms. "I was the first one to touch him. I own him."

His chest aching, hands running down his face so hard, leaving bruises on it, no voice coming out from him. All dark. 

Light. 

**_You hurted us._ **

That was your fault. 

He got up, muscles weak, a sharp pain on his chest, sweat covering most parts of his body. Checked the hour. Almost 30 minutes passed since he fainted. The teacher would not let him go in even if he tried to, so he got out of the closet, facing an empty hall, feeling relieved, he didn't have the energy to bare with people and noises, nor the energy to supress how much he hated all of them, every single one of them. 

**_It hurts._ **

Quit it. You are not the one who's walking right now. 

**_I could've done it._ **

I know, that's why I did it. 

But he couldn't hold himself for much longer, his body was exhausted. He had never forced a change so quickly before.

He walked past all the classrooms, but intentionally stopped for a second, watching through one of the windows to look inside, it was Yeosang's class, and he was there, sitting right at the front of the class, must've said something funny because everyone started to laugh, and now he was smiling, and it made his chest hurt more, because he wanted to drag him out and stop him from doing that. Everytime he was happy it twisted something inside him and it was starting to get worse, it hurted and made him want to throw up to then make Yeosang cry, cry out loud, to shout, to scream, to hurt him so he could stop smiling. He just wanted him to stop. Yeosang looked out the window, locking his eyes on him. 

Seonghwa felt the vein in his neck pop at that, blood getting hotter inside of his. He hitted the glass with his fist so hard it shattered, and the sound of it accomplished that now he was all out of himself, letting out a loud groan that must've attracted all eyes to him, but he didn't care to look, he just started walking out of the building, trying to hide the big smile on his face with his fist, the one that was bleeding, hurting so fucking good that once he was out he ran, laughing like never before. 

His eyes were lost, he was not looking at where he was going, so he of course didn't see the car that hit him when he crossed the street, making him fall to the concrete, but that just made him arch his back, moaning while getting up, feeling all his bones cry because of the pain he was in, his hip and rib could be broke judging by the way they ached. The woman that was driving got out of her car to help him, ready to call an ambulance, but before she was able to do so, the young man started to run again, spitting a bit of blood on his way. 

_**Not much time left.** _

But he just rolled his eyes at that, he didn't care. It was not the first time he did something like that. But it had been a long time. 

The first time he was eight years old. Hongjoong was still not in the picture. A kid on the playground was makind fun of him, it was a little girl wearing a pink dress with his hair braided really beautifully. He was at the sand box, rubbing sand on his skin because he found it entertaining how it scratched and the marks it left behind, and so she thought that was weird and was making him drop the sand on his hands and forcing him to stand up, but he didn't want to stand up, and the girl thought that if she kissed his cheek he would soften up, but it wasn't like that. At all. The lips on his skin made his blood boil, and a tic appear on his eye. Next thing he knew, his hands were around her throat, and his heart was racing while seeing her trying to cry out for help, and that only made him smile, but she was getting more difficult to handle, so he threw her on the ground and grabbed the back of her hair to make her bite the sand on the playground, asphyxiating her. Of course he didn't kill her, they were on a public space and an adult screamed at him, and so he released her and got up to run. 

Hongjoong didn't appear until he was fifteen-ish, in the middle of chemistry class. They were on the third week of his first year at highschool, and a boy with a mark so pretty it hurted to see appeared at the door. He was introduced by the teacher as the new student, and as always the only free seat was the one at his side, because no one wanted to sit with him, even at the first week. So it made him a bit nervous, call it a crush, call it excitement, whatever it was, but the fact that he just walked straight to him and stood up to his hide while smiling and introducing himself made something stir up inside him, Yeosang streched out his hand for a handshake, but Seonghwa had never done one before, so he was confussed and frowned at it, making the other boy laugh while looking for his hand to hold it, and he didn't know what happened, but all of the sudden he was annoyed, he was shaking uncontrollably, the tic on his eye spreading through all his body, and he was afraid, angry even, storming out of the classroom straight to the bathroom, locking himself up and falling to the ground without being able to stand up even if he tried to, his head hurting, his heart palpitating so hard he could hear it, making his ears ache. He tried to cry out in pain but no voice would come out of him, and then he heard him, a voice laughing, but it wasn't a laugh like Yeosang's, this one was mocking him, this one was twisted, but he couldn't help it and started laughing too, and then all he saw was black. 

Once he was back to himself he started to hit the wall on his room, then the mirror, and then he jumped out of the window, which was on a second floor and started running even when his knees were making him fall every five steps. He was in so much pain that he felt alive. He, who had never felt something apart from disgust was feeling pain, was feeling anger, fear. Fear. And it made him so alive. 

He ended up on a wheelchair that time because he sprain bot his ankles. 

So no, it was not his first time. He could live with the pain. Walking was never that important for him anyway. 

Except that this time he might've pierced one of his lungs because of the way he had to stop to breathe and cough out some blood. But also he hit his head on the ground, so maybe it was just a broken tooth. 

He entered a public bathroom to the side of some gas station, that's how he knew he had no absolute idea where he was, but that was not important at the moment, he could remember later the way back to school. 

He locked the door and walked to the mirror there, it was stained with dust and all types of fluids, but it had enough clear space to see how awful he looked: bags so dark down his eyes, skin so pale it almost looked yellow, eyes injected with blood, lips and hands shaking and stained with blood, but that only made him laugh again, stopping only because of the pain on his rib, making him angry, hitting the mirror, hearing it shatter, moaning from the sound of it, shivers going down his spine, hearing his laugh at the back of his head, hitting again, making the pieces fall to the sink. He took the clearest of them, paying attention to the side of his left eye.

_**Don't.** _

But Seonghwa knew what he wanted to do, so he just slid the glass on his arm, seeing blood come out, moaning again. Such pleasure. He brought the piece of mirror again to his face, grabbing a bit of blood with his index finger and he touched the side of his eye with it, using the red liquid as paint. He knew that mark by heart, so he did the best he could to make it look like his. 

_**It's not the same, quit it.** _

Of course it's not, this was just a draft. 

And he could feel his tic again, because Hongjoong understood what that meant, but it stopped after a few seconds, he was weak and couldn't really collect the energy for a change and that made him laugh, coughing and spitting blood once again. He found his reflection on the broken mirror still on the wall and started to cut the outline of the mark with the piece he had on his hand, but it hurted a lot, tears blocking his eyesight, he couldn't do it like that, it had to be perfect. 

_**If you are going to do it, better do it right.** _

And with that a flash of memories ran infront of him and that kept him going: the anger, the disgust... The fear. 

Oh, he was so afraid, afraid of losing him. But at the end he did, because the boy would never smile at him anymore, he would not come to shake his hand anymore, he would not try to make him hold a conversation anymore, not nothing anymore. He decided to ignore him, and now everytime he laughed it wasn't because of him and that made him want to smash his head on the ground, and every smile was for another reason but him, and he wanted to rip his face off. He wanted to rip that beautiful mark of his because he knew that's what makes him so special, the way it was beside his eye and how it was just so well placed, it was the perfect size, the perfect color, even the perfect shape. Like a cloud, like a lake, like everything he hated, and if that made Yeosang so special, why couldn't it make him special too? Right now he wasn't able to rip it off, but he could be able to make his own... His own little treasure. It would no longer be just a Yeosang thing, he would stop being special if someone else had it, right? Right? 

And that's how he finished with skin pieces falling of his face, with blood all over his hands and lips mixing up with the tears. 

_**Next time it's his.** _

Next time it's his. 

\-----------------------------------------

Yeosang wasn't expecting anything, not that he had to, but right now he feels like he should've, because he saw him entering the classroom, and everyone went silent, his heart dropped and he could swear it stopped beating. He would not have noticed, he would've thought it was just an injury, Seonghwa always got hurt, but the way he walked to him and caressed his cheek right on his mark shaked something, and he was about to take his hand off, but he leaned and kissed his birthmark, "Maybe next time.", he said before siting to the other side of the room, making him feel uneasy, not noticing even how he threw up next to his chair. 

Beautiful.

_**Truly.** _


End file.
